


Violent and Fierce and Unmoving

by RavenWhitecastle



Series: The Sinner and the Saint [4]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Comfort, Coping, Drinking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-26 17:37:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14407089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenWhitecastle/pseuds/RavenWhitecastle
Summary: Even when Harold was afraid for his life, he always knew he could count on John.-Takes place immediately after S02E03, "Masquerade." Very heavy on dialogue. Includes John being a smart-ass and Harold being exasperated. Title is from The Foxhole Court.





	Violent and Fierce and Unmoving

Harold had not wanted to admit that he’d been afraid when Root had kidnapped him. He’d only admitted it to himself after he’d been forced to retreat to the library after his panic attack. It was hardly the noise and the lights and the traffic that had frightened him when he’d taken Bear to help with a number. It was simply the knowledge that Root could be watching him at any given moment that had driven him back inside, much to his chagrin. So when John had said it was about time for a drink, he’d begrudgingly obliged.

On the way to a nearby bar with Bear at his side, Harold had reluctantly asked, “Does it have to be beer?” It had made John smile, and for a moment, Harold thought that the night could be simple- just two friends having a drink. But then Harold had remembered how much effort John had made to find him, and he guiltily conceded that John deserved the truth.

When they’d settled at the bar, John with his beer and Harold with a vodka tonic, it took Harold a few minutes to find his voice. Once he did, he said, “I… appreciate the lengths you went to in order to find me.”

“You certainly didn’t make it easy,” John grumbled.

“Which is all the more reason I was happy to see you.” John glanced at his partner. Harold realized it was the first time he’d admitted it out loud.

John voiced what they were both thinking. “The first thing you said to me when I found you in Maryland was that you didn’t intend for me to come looking for you.”

“I didn’t.” He set down his glass. “The Machine followed my instructions. You found the number and saved his life, like I intended. I should have expected you to deviate from the contingency plan.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw John smirk. “I hired you because you were capable, but also because you cared. But, like the Machine, I didn’t hire you to care solely about me.”

John set his bottle on the counter. “Would you have preferred that I leave you in the hands of that sociopath?”

Harold pursed his lips. “Mr. Reese, please, I was…” He swallowed. “I was frightened. She murdered Alicia Corwin, and then she murdered Denton Weeks. I was afraid for my life. I knew then that I wanted to be found, but Root was thorough. And then she mentioned you.” Harold decided to leave out the bit about Root referring to John as Harold’s “knuckle-dragging friend.”

John was watching Harold carefully. Harold cleared his throat before continuing. “When I knew you were looking for me, I was hopeful for the first time in days. But it was all I had. I left the code on the phone, and I could only hope that you would find it.”

“You could have left some bread crumbs a lot sooner,” John murmured, reaching for his beer.

“ _John_ ,” Harold sighed wearily the way he did when he knew John wasn’t listening. “What I’m trying to say is… I’m grateful. You gave me something to hold on to. Even when Root was... torturing Weeks, I could take comfort knowing that you were still out there." He fiddled with his glass. "I suppose I should be annoyed that you… went rogue, as they say.”

“Do you want me to apologize?” John teased.

“No. I actually wanted to apologize to you.” Harold took another sip of his drink as he searched for the words to say. At long last, he said, “When the Machine was built, the code wasn’t perfect. It’s job was to protect everyone, not to protect me. It took me a long time to teach it that. I should have kept that in mind when I hired you. When I left the message on the phone… I could only hope that you were as stubborn as I first thought. You finding my message wasn’t a sure thing. I wasn’t certain that you would come for me, just as I wasn’t certain you’d carry on saving numbers in my absence.”

Harold took another sip. He looked at John, searching his face for signs of comprehension.

“The Machine accounts for every variable, and can calculate the outcome of hundreds of scenarios in seconds,” he explained, “It can predict human behavior by analyzing patterns and applying logic to those patterns, and by those means, determine how any given situation will end.”

"Careful, Finch,” John warned, “The Machine and I aren’t on very good terms at the moment.”

“The Machine is not the point,” Harold assured his friend, “The point is that while computers are capable of predicting patterns of human behavior in moments, humans are not capable of the same. We can make predictions, and assume, but we cannot know what another human will do or how another human will act with one-hundred percent certainty.” Harold sighed again. “And, sitting here, with you… I am grateful for that.”

John pondered this for a moment, taking another sip of his beer. Finally, he said, “You know, a simple ‘thank you’ would have been fine.”

Harold rolled his eyes and murmured something about how John was bullheaded and did he have cotton in his ears. But Harold had to take another sip of his drink to hide the smile playing on his lips.


End file.
